Barking Up the Wrong Tree
by Bria
Summary: I am a tempest; I can feel it building within me, a raging storm beneath the surface. - Johanna Mason's thoughts in the immediate aftermath of the Quarter Quell announcement.


Disclaimer: The Hunger Games does not belong to me. If I was Suzanne Collins, Scholastic, or Lions Gate Entertainment, I certainly wouldn't be writing fanfic.

A/N: For my third Hunger Games ficlet I decided to step away from Katniss and Peeta and turn my attention to Johanna instead. This was inspired Jena Malone's great portrayal of her in Catching Fire. While Finnick was my favorite new character in the book, Johanna was, by far, my favorite in the movie.

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**Barking Up the Wrong Tree**

_On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest amongst them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors. _

Standing in the public square in District 7, my mouth starts to drop in shock but I promptly clamp it shut. With that bombshell reactions will be broadcast across Panem and I school my features carefully. As a victor, Capitol eyes could easily be on me right this very moment. I am officially known as "trouble" to them but as furious as I am, I will not bring about suffering for my district.

As soon as it is possible, I slip away, raging inside. BULLSHIT! The word rings loudly in my head. This is complete and utter bullshit. I pause briefly at my house to grab an ax and then stalk my way to the forest, glad that mine is the only district where most of the trees are not on the other side of a fence.

Through the dense forest I make my way to the dam where the sound of the water can hide the extent of my anger. I am a tempest; I can feel it building within me, a raging storm beneath the surface.

"FUCK YOU PRESIDENT SNOW!" I scream the words into the sky over and over again as I cut into a tree. The only damage I cause is to myself in the soreness of my muscles and eventually an ache in my back as I swing my ax time and time again. I do not care. The pain helps me focus. "TELL ME NOBODY BELIEVES THIS LOAD OF HORSE SHIT!"

After a final swing of my ax I slump down to the base of the tree I've been cutting into. I may be strong but I am not strong enough to bring it down on my own. The tree, however, is strong enough for me and my hostility.

This is a calculated move on the President's part; there is no doubt in my mind of that. Seventy five years ago there would've been no guarantee that each district would have enough tributes. I know for a fact that several districts only have one female and male tribute, yet the lie will be bought in the Capitol, hook, line, and sinker. Stupid fucking sheep.

I knew when the girl Katniss pulled out those berries that there would be repercussions. Such defiance of the Capitol would not stand. Mine didn't. This is the President's revenge against her, of that I am certain, but he has me as well. The lone female victor from my district, it's back to the arena for me as well. Somehow I know Snow takes perverse pleasure in this, having me back in his snare once again. His vindictiveness is twofold.

If there was one thing I had thought I could take comfort in as a victor, it was the knowledge that I could live in peace. How flimsy was that lie! I should've known better. As if peace could ever really exist for me.

The Capitol already took everything from me with the exception of my life. It took my family in retaliation for my refusal to sell my body after my win. My mother, father, and brother, they are all gone. A "gas leak," during my victory tour but I knew what it really was. Then, as if that wasn't enough, it was sending the children I mentored off to be slaughtered, knowing how little chance they stood but trying with all my might to teach them enough to survive. For what I'm not exactly sure, except my belief that life is better than death. I know that's true for any victor that mentors but it's different when you're the one watching them die and there is nothing you can do to help them anymore.

As I watch the rushing water of the dam I think how easy it would be to jump. Jump and not have to face the arena again. Jump and deny them my blood. I have no real desire for death but my lip curls in a cruel smile as I imagine how the Capitol and the President would deal with that.

Twenty three victors instead of twenty four. Would that make people realize there is no possible way this Quarter Quell was decided upon seventy five years ago? The districts of Panem already know very well what the Hunger Games are about. They're punishment for the sins of our forbearers and a way to keep us in line. But could it cause the idiots in the Capitol to be incited to rise up? To see the Hunger Games for the sham that they are and say no more? To refuse to watch the victors they love be killed before their very eyes? No, probably not. They love a good bloodbath after all.

But for myself I refuse to play their game nicely. Not this time around. I will make the damn Capitol, make fucking President Snow pay. And if they think I'll go quietly? Well, their barking up the wrong tree.


End file.
